


Lake Watch

by MyHeartPounds



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drowning, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Recovery, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2020-12-20 20:23:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21062654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyHeartPounds/pseuds/MyHeartPounds
Summary: With Monomon dead, Quirrel decides Blue Lake is a beautiful place to stay forever.





	1. Chapter 1

Scaling a large wall was NOT Ghost's idea of fun. He had just finished visiting Salubra to buy another charm notch when he realized something. There was a small bit of light shining high above the bench just outside. The wall was not insanely tall, but he was tired after his trek through The Teacher's Archives. He shuddered. He never wanted to see a jellyfish again.

As Ghost looked down from the top of the wall, he froze. Beneath his feet lay a ginormous, crystal-blue lake. It was at times like these that he wished he was truly hollow. 

No, he was not truly hollow. He had known this since he was first declared unfit by The Pale King. However, he realized that he was even less hollow than he thought when he met Quirrel. Dear Wyrm, Quirrel. So maybe he had a crush on Quirrel. Well, okay, it was not really a crush anymore. He was in love with Quirrel. And he knew that it was stupid.

He was a vessel. A being created to feel nothing and have no desires. And here he was, with feelings and desires. He could not speak. He had no mouth nor vocal cords. Despite being able to write, he knew he would never be able to truly tell Quirrel how he felt. Words were not enough. If only he could somehow express the pounding of his non-existent heart, or the heat he felt in his mask when he sat by him. But what does one do when love seems a million worlds away? In Ghost's opinion, nothing.

Meanwhile on the other side of the lake, Quirrel sat deep in his own thoughts, his nail stabbed into the sand beside him. His one duty had been completed. Monomon's seal had been destroyed. And now, he had no reason to be there. Now, he had no reason left to live.

As he looked at the serene, blue water, he thought he felt nothing. Not fear, not anger, not sadness. Just nothing. But deep in his heart, he did feel something. Loneliness. Almost none survived the onslaught of the infection, and those who did certainly did not know him. It was not like they needed to know him. He always enjoyed meeting new people. But after the infection, it just was not the same. 

The pain felt unbearable. Every memory rushing back at once as he entered The Archive. Uumuu's corpse slowly sinking into the acid below. Monomon's body, still and lifeless. Her empty gaze. Her empty tank. And worst of all was the silence. The silence. THE SILENCE! Was there really anything worse than pure quiet? A lack of noise in an area that was usually filled with scratching pens or Monomon's spouts of miscellaneous information was nothing less than unsettling. 

Even now that the worst had already happened, Quirrel still asked himself, "Was it really worth it? Accepting Monomon's mask? Agreeing to protect her with his life, only to have that one duty ripped away from him by her choosing to end her seal and her life?"

He had not decided it yet. He remembered when news of the infection had first gotten out. The fear, the panic, the sobbing in the streets. He remembered the solomness in Monomon's gaze as she told him what had to be done. He remembered the pain in his heart as he took one last glance at the shining lights of Dirtmouth before ascending into the Howling Cliffs. He remembered the nights he spent gently cleaning the mask, but not even knowing why he had it. He remembered everything.

And deep down, he wished that he didn't.

He wanted the memories and the pain they brought to go away! All of it! He wanted to scream into the Abyss, to shout, to cry! But he could not do it. It was like his body was refusing every action. And yet, he ignored it. He slowly rose to his feet. He took one last look back at his nail embedded in the sand shore. He turned away from it. It would be there to stay. He stared into the clear waters. He could feel the chilly water around his ankles. It was almost... calling out to him, beckoning him further. He chuckled to himself. How ironic.

Ghost began parkouring his way over Blue Lake. He tried not to look down at the water below, fearing he would fall. He made his way to the last platform. He finally faced his fears and looked down. What he saw surprised him. It was Quirrel! But... something was different about him. He was wading knee deep in the water, looking off into the distance. Then he started walking deeper and deeper until... he disappeared under the water.

Ghost was confused. What the heck was Quirrel doing? Was he going for a swim? It did not seem like that was the case. Or maybe that was just what swimming looked like? He would not know. He had never swam before. However, it had been at least thirty seconds and Ghost knew that other bugs had to breathe. What if he was in danger? Ghost did not want Quirrel to be mad at him if he was not, but... Ghost dove into the water after him.

The lake went a heck of a lot deeper than Ghost had expected. He could see Quirrel laying flat on the bottom of the lake. His body was still. He was not breathing. Ghost moved his way down to Quirrel, wrapping his small arms around him. He tried to lift him off of the ground. He couldn't. He tried again and again to lift the pill bug up to the sandy bank but he... couldn't. About a minute had passed and he was beginning to lose hope as he tried and failed again and again. He heard a splash come from above. 

'Great,' thought Ghost, 'Now there's probably a husk in here with us.' 

Next thing he knew, he was thrown back onto the sand above.


	2. Chapter 2

Ghost looked over to see Hornet laying Quirrel onto the sand. He was confused. Why was she there, and more importantly, why would she rescue them? He supposed it did not matter. He watched as Hornet began pushing on Quirrel’s plates. What was she doing?! He panicked and latched onto her wrist. She pulled her wrist away but continued her actions. Ghost tugged on her cloak as she leaned down to breathe into Quirrel’s mouth.

“I am trying to save your friend’s life!” She said, sensing the smaller bug’s panicked state.

She again was forced to push him away as she tried to revive the taller bug. Again and again, she pushed and pushed and exhaled. Ghost did not understand. What was this meant to do? Clearly, whatever it was, it was not working. What if she was making it worse? What if she was killing him!? He was about to push her off of Quirrel entirely when just at the right moment, Quirrel began to cough harshly.

Hornet carefully rolled him on to his side, allowing the water to escape his lungs. It took some time due to the length of his exposure. When it seemed his coughing had finally ceased it’s run, Quirrel still had yet to awaken. Hornet sighed and rose to her feet. She pulled her needle back into its sheath, as she had used it to fling them out of the water. She then walked over to Ghost and helped him to his feet. 

“Now little Ghost,” she said, “You will help me carry the Archivist back to my shelter in Greenpath. Once there, you will explain to me what just occurred.”

Ghost nodded, albeit a little confused. Hornet knew that he could not speak, right? How did she expect him to explain? He could write or draw, but how was he meant to explain what he did not understand? He supposed they would figure out the details later. He helped his older half-sister lift Quirrel off of the sand. He also made sure to pull Quirrel’s nail out of the ground. He was sure the bug would want it later. As it turned out, Quirrel was not very heavy. Lucky for them. Ghost carried Quirrel over his shoulder and led Hornet to the nearest Stagway Station, which was located in the Resting Grounds. 

“Hello little friend,” the Old Stag said upon seeing his small companion, “Where shall I take you to- Oh my!”

He gasped as he noticed Quirrel.

“The Archivist! Why I have not seen him in years. I remember, every day I would take him from King’s Station to Queen’s Station. What he did in that blasted canyon every day, I do not know. He was very polite, that one. What is he doing with you, small one?”

“He is injured,” Hornet stated, emerging from behind Ghost, “We are taking him to Greenpath. I know a place there in which he will be safe until he recovers.”

“The Daughter of the Beast…” the Stag half-whispered, bending his front legs in a sort of bow, “It is an honor to be in your presence.”

“You know of me?” Hornet said, surprised.

“But of course!” the Stag said, “Those who have not heard of the daughter of the Beast who was raised by the White Lady and trained under the queen of the Hive are surely fools.”

Hornet nodded before raising both herself and Quirrel onto the Stag’s back. Ghost followed after her. After a rather short journey, the group arrived in Greenpath. The Stag had traveled as fast yet gently as possible, keeping in mind the delicate passenger. After reaching their destination, Hornet jumped from the Stag, thanking him. She then helped Ghost to lift Quirrel up and off of the Stag. This time, she slung Quirrel over her shoulder. Hornet then took the lead, guiding Ghost back to her shelter in Greenpath. As it turned out, it was in a well-hidden room placed just above the area in which Ghost had first fought Hornet. He would not have been able to reach it before, but with the help of the Mantis Claw and Monarch Wings, it was an easy climb.

Hornet quickly zipped up with Quirrel, using her needle and silk as a pulley system. Ghost reached the room, pushed aside the hanging vines covering it, and stepped inside. It was a humble abode, only one small room it seemed. There was a small bed made of wooden boughs with a woven mattress and coverings. On the other side of the room was a small table and chair, as well as a large loom resting in the far corner with a small stool. In the center of the room was a small fire pit, surrounded by rocks. Hornet had already lain Quirrel on the bed and covered him in a crocheted blanket. She then turned to Ghost and motioned for him to sit in the chair. She grabbed the stool from the loom and placed it on the other side of the table.

She walked to her small fire pit. Ghost had just then noticed the small teapot hanging over the pit. She emptied a canteen of water into the pot. She then took a small flint and steel out from under her cloak and lit the fire. After about two minutes, she removed the pot from the heat and poured it into a small teacup resting nearby. It was a little chipped, but functionable. She emptied a small bag of tea leaves half into the pot, half into her cup. She did not bother asking Ghost if he would like some. Ghost did not mind, he could not eat or drink anyway. He doubted she even had another cup.

She then sat herself down on the stool, placing her cup on the table.

“Now,” she said, “In the best way you can, explain what just happened."


	3. Chapter 3

Ghost looked straight into Hornet’s eyes, and shrugged. Hornet looked back at him blankly.

“What do you mean you do not know?” She said, “Has he not been acting strangely before?”

Ghost shook his head.

“So you have not seen him as such,” She confirmed, “Do you believe that this may have been an accident?”

Ghost shrugged.

“Well, you are not helping like this. Can you do anything other than gesture?”

Ghost perked up. He pulled out his quill and began mimicking writing. Hornet nodded.

“So you can write. Alright then, here” She said, pulling a sheet of weathered paper from beneath her cloak,” Now, allow me to repeat myself. What could have caused this?” 

Ghost began to write.

‘I not know.’

“Well then, if you were there as it happened, how did he drown? Did it look like an accident?” 

‘Drown?’

“Yes,” Said Hornet, “Drown. One’s lungs fill with water, and they can not breathe. One may become incapacitated. If the water is not quickly or properly forced out, one will die or obtain severe brain damage. Luckily, I found the two of your quickly enough that he should be okay. That is what happened to him.”

Ghost nodded and began writing again.

‘I see him. Sit on beach. Look into distance. He smile and stand. He walk to water and stand in. Look cold. Then he walk under. 1 minute. No help. You come. Ok. No look like accident.’

Hornet thought about that for a little bit. Suddenly, her eyes widened. In what emotion, Ghost did not know. Then she began to speak.

“I have heard of this happening before, but I did not expect to experience it,” She said, “Oh dear. This may be much worse than I initially thought.”

Ghost tilted his head in confusion. What was she talking about? What happened? What did she mean worse than she thought? Worse was more serious than bad, but based on what she said about drowning, he could not imagine anything worse.

‘What mean worse than thought?’

“I mean,” Hornet said, “Your friend may have been trying to kill himself.”

Ghost was taken aback. Why would someone want to die? Dying was awful! And look what happened now. Quirrel was unconscious, freezing cold to the touch, and halfway to death’s door! He would not wish that feeling upon his mortal enemy if he had the choice. It was so confusing!

‘Why do it? Would hurt.’

“I do not know, Little Ghost,” Hornet replied, “One can not see into the mind of others and find the root of the problem. I suppose when he awakes we may ask, but that may not go over well.”

‘Why no?’

“Well, some bugs react unexpectedly when under pressure. We would not want to push him if he is not ready to tell us yet.”

Ghost nodded. That made sense to him. He would not want to scare Quirrel or hurt his feelings. He loved Quirrel. He wanted him to be happy! But first, he wanted to understand.

‘Why try die?’

“There are many reasons one may wish to end their life,” Hornet said, “Although they will not be the same in every case. One may be overwhelmed by sadness or regret. Others may feel alone or worthless. One may even feel hollow and just want to feel alive. In any case, one should never assume what another may be going through. Ignorance will create more barriers than it breaks down.”

Ghost nodded in understanding. He supposed that he would wait until Quirrel was strong enough to not need him anymore. Then he would continue his mission. After all, Hallownest could not wait forever and with all three Dreamer’s seals removed, the Infection would be spreading faster than ever. At least the bugs in Dirtmouth would be safe. He must complete his quest, no matter the cost. And he knew the cost well.

He knew that this battle would cost him his life. He knew by taking the Hollow Knight’s place, he would never see his loved one’s again. He would never see Hornet or Quirrel again. Yet he knew that in ending the Infection, Hallownest could rebuild itself. Everyone would be happy. 

In the end, there would be NO COST TOO GREAT.

He was snapped out of his thoughts as he heard a click-clack sound coming from somewhere in the room. He looked over to see Hornet, sitting on the table’s chair, busying herself at her loom. Whatever it was that she was working on, it was surely big. She seemed nearly done with it, and it took up nearly the entire large loom. He stood up, walked over to her, and tapped her on the shoulder. She looked back at him, turning around in her chair.

“What,” She said plainly, although after seeing Ghost’s recoil she changed her tone.

“Do you need something?”

Ghost pointed at the midnight blue cloth being woven.

“What about it?” 

He shrugged.

“Well, I was planning to make another blanket from this,” She explained, “But upon seeing the sorry state of your cloak, I believe I should make you another one.”

He shook his head.

“No?” She questioned, “What do you mean no?”

He shook his head again.

“You do not want to lose this cloak?”

He nodded. She thought for a bit.

“What if I were to make it in a way that you could layer this cloak atop your new one?” She said, holding the fabric of Ghost’s cloak.

He nodded.

“Alright then. A layered cloak you shall have.”

Hornet turned back to her loom and continued working. Ghost felt a little bit lonely. He liked the quiet when by himself, but when with others it felt strange. Quiet meant the Abyss, the Void, his home. A shiver went down his spine. He pushed the thought away and looked at Quirrel. 

He sat himself on the bed beside Quirrel, grasping the taller bug’s hand. Hornet looked at the two of them and smiled knowingly.

“Do you like him?” She asked.

Ghost nodded, not taking his eyes off of Quirrel.

“I must say, if it was not for the Infection, you two would make for a very cute couple.”

Ghost felt his mask heat up at his sister’s teasing words. 

Suddenly, Quirrel’s eyes fluttered open.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quirrel opened his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM BACK FROM THE DEAD BOYS! Now without marching band, I have time to actually write!
> 
> Also, headcanon time at the end and for next chapter.

Darkness. A bitter taste in his mouth. Monomon’s empty tank. Shivers rushed through him. A world forever unchanging. An empty room. An empty tomb. Dead Oomas littered the floor. Acid lake, burning to the touch. Stones in his shell. Water, seeping through his carapace. A sandy shore, a streak of red. 

And then, he opened his eyes. 

The first thing Quirrel noticed was a very familiar mask looking down at him, and the lack of his nail at his side. He slowly sat up, before noticing the wracking pain in his chest. The little knight pushed the pillow behind his back, propping him up in a more comfortable position. His mind swirled with questions, but he was still too out of it to ask anything. 

“Ah, so he’s finally awake,” He heard a somewhat familiar voice say.

Quirrel knew he had heard that voice somewhere before, maybe on the road or in the town? It was stoic and formal, but with a feminine touch to it. Perhaps he had merely dreamed the voice. As far as he was concerned he and the little knight were the only ones in the room. Well, that was until he looked to his right. There he saw her, the one in the scarlet cloak. The one who had tried to kill him as he entered Hallownest for the first time after the Sealing.

He, as any reasonable bug should have, panicked. He scanned the room for his nail, spotting it across the room, hung carefully on the wall. 

‘Maybe,’ Quirrel thought, ‘The little knight has brought me to her to kill me! Maybe his stoic gentleness was nothing more than a ploy for me to help relinquish Monomon’s shield, and now that I have done the deed, the little knight and his red-cloaked friend will dispose of me!’

He tried to fling himself out of bed, only for him to flop pathetically onto the floor. This of course, did not help the pain in his chest which bloomed further throughout his lungs and diaphragm. 

He felt himself being lifted back into the bed, along with a scolding voice saying, ”Are you trying to give us a heart attack? You need to rest to heal properly. Throwing yourself about like a dying fish certainly will not help anyone in this situation.” 

“Why are you helping me?” Quirrel asked the lady in red, “You tried to kill me.”

She huffed and said, “Then, I was trying to complete my duties. Now, I know you are of no threat to the integrity of Hallownest.”

“And,” She added moments later, “I saw THIS one dive headfirst into the water like a mad husk while I was passing by.” She pointed at the little knight. 

Silence and tension filled the room.

“You are lucky, you know.” She stated, “Ghost is a very poor swimmer.”

“Ghost?” He questioned.

The little knight pointed at itself, almost proudly. Ah, a name finally revealed. 

“And who are you, perhaps a sibling, or a friend?” Quirrel asked.

Hornet shuddered at the word sibling.

“A half sister.” She clarified, “And I am called Hornet.”

“Hornet,” He thought for a minute, “Are you perhaps Hornet of Deepnest, the daughter of The Beast and Pale King?!”

“Yes,” she sighed, “My birth-cursed sibling and I are both children of the Pale King.” 

“Ah,” he said in realization. 

No wonder Ghost had always reminded him of something, even as he could not access his past memories. The Hollow Knight, standing stoic and tall as a sculpture in the City of Tears. Monomon’s tale of creatures, empty and bare. A creature only able to gesture or sign. No mind to think, no will to break, and yet one that clearly exhibited a mind and will. Ghost was…

“A vessel…” He whispered quietly.

“What was that?” asked Hornet, now back to her position at her loom.

“Ah, nothing!” Quirrel said, embarrassed by his lack of a filter on his mouth. 

Ghost appeared hunched over when Quirrel looked back at him, almost nervous. Quirrel hesitantly reached over, and placed a gentle claw on Ghost’s head. Ghost perked up, body stiffening at a touch that did not hurt for once. Ghost felt a blush bloom across his shell out of shyness. 

Quirrel felt the shell under his hand go warm. He was confused. Ghost’s shell was cold when he first made contact with it, and now it was almost uncomfortably warm.

“Ghost, are you sick? Do you have a fever?” 

Ghost shook their head. Quirrel supposed that did not really make sense. Could vessels even get sick? Then slowly, Ghost placed his stubby little hand on Quirrel’s face. 

And Quirrel could feel the coldness of Ghost’s hand.

Which meant his mask was gone. 

Which meant they could see his face.

Which meant TIME TO PANIC!

Quirrel let out a blood curdling screech.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Corona virus lockdown has given me a ton of free time to write :)

It was his first day working in The Archives. He was a lowly historian, and had just finished his tour of the area. He settled down in a quiet area to begin his work on updating the history of the City of Tears. He was surrounded by vials of acid, each containing bits and pieces of memories and facts.

Now please keep in mind the delicacy of the glass containing this knowledge. It was made from some sort of metalaic-glass alloy in order to contain the dangerous liquid. Infact, it was so delicate The Teacher's Archive was kept at a steady 69° Farenheit all day, every day to keep the glass intact.

Anyway, it was his job to cobble the pieces together into a timeline that made sense. He was a little nervous, y’know being surrounded by bottles of literal carapace-burning acid, but they had lasted this long already, so surely they would hold for him. 

Oh, how wrong he was. 

He was about three vials in when he accidentally bumped the tea on his desk with his elbow. The cup fell over and splashed onto the desk. Some of the tea splashed onto the very vile that Quirrel happened to be placing on the table at that moment. The sudden temperature difference caused the glass to suddenly crack and burst, the toxic substance splashing onto the right side of his face and his eye, along with his right hand.

He screeched in pain, feeling the acid slowly eat it's way into his skin. He squeezed his eye shut in hopes of keeping anymore of it from dripping into his eye. Tears began pouring from his face, trying to flush the substance out. Luckily for him, it didn't make its way in too far before Monomon burst into the room. She was walking by and heard the glass break and his screams of pain. 

She found Quirrel on the ground, clawing at his own face. She pulled the young scholar into her arms, rushing him to her office. She always kept a first aid kit and acid remover in there. A building with literal acid pools in the ground was prone to accidents. She forced his closed eye open before emptying the acid dissolver onto his face and hand. The acid quickly mixed and the pH turned to a neutral 7. At that point, he had already fainted from pain. She sighed in relief.

How unlucky the scholar was to obtain such a serious injury on his first day of work. Even when the skin repaired, his hand and face would surely retain tissue scars, and who knew if he would even be able to see outside of that eye ever again. She felt awful. Monomon knew she was the one who should have given Quirrel the tour and enlightened him on the specifics of The Archives, but she was so busy that day and she knew her archivists were capable. Apparently not as capable as she thought.

She already like the little scholar before her. While interviewing him, he seemed so shy and gentle, but he had an air of unmistakable confidence around him. It must have come from his past as a city guard. When she had told him this, he got embarrassed and brushed it off. 

She could see him in the future as a head of The Archive, training the newcomers and instructing the veterans. With him in charge, she could see Hallownest having a bright and prosperous future. That was until...

Quirrel jolted awake. 

'How funny,' he thought, 'I had just woken up minutes ago.'

Hornet and Ghost turned from their positions looking away and stared at him with such gravitas that he was slightly, no, VERY terrified.

"What..." Hornet inhaled sharply, "WHAT WAS THAT!?"

"Huh?" He asked dumbly.

"No no no, don't HUH me. By God and Wyrm you nearly gave Ghost over there a heart attack," She said sassily.

Indeed, Ghost did appear very shaken. 

"What did I do?" He said.

"Well, I don't know," She said, "You just screamed for no discernable reason."

He thought back to it, before panicking again. He slapped his hand over his face, before looking around wildly.

"M-my mask!" He managed to stutter out, "I-I ne-need my mask!" 

"But, you don't wear a mask?" She questioned.

"Yes I do!" He said urgently, "I need it, like, now!"

Ghost reached under his cloak, before pulling out half of a mask that looked almost exactly like Quirrel's face, albeit a little off colored. He raised it to Quirrel.

Quirrel grabbed the mask with a shakey hand, strapping it back onto his face.

"It appears to be a very simple mask," Hornet said somewhat rudely, "What is so important about it?"

"I-it's a prosthetic."

Hornet immediatly ate her words.

"I apologise," she said, "I did not realize."

"It's fine." He said.

"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly happened? I had noticed something was wrong with your... ahem... appearance earlier, but thought it was a trick of the light."

"I don't mind. It was a simple work accident. I wasn't properly trained yet, and acid splashed on me."

"I see." 

Ghost got up and tugged on Hornet's cloak. Ghost made a few gestures Quirrel couldn't decipher, pointing at the bug in question. 

"It appears that Ghost must... be on their way now."

"Oh, safe travels friend!" Quirrel said. 

Ghost ran up to Quirrel, and pulled him into a tight embrace. Well, as tight as he could get since his arms did not reach all the way around Quirrel. Quirrel was a little surprised, but accepted the hug warmly. Hornet smiled softly at the two of them, but the smile dropped as she thought of why Ghost was leaving.

Ghost eventually let go, making a couple more gestures at Hornet. 

"Yes, that would be irresponsible." She pondered aloud.

"What would be irresponsible?" Quirrel asked.

"Seeing as you are still healing, and I have some... unfinished business to attend to, it would most likely be best to leave you with another person to make sure that you don't wander off injured. Who knows, maybe an idiot like you may actually manage to drown himself on accident next time," She said with an emphasis on accident.

She gave Quirrel a look that he knew meant she knew and that that was the end of that. 

"Alright then," He agreed, "Who am I going to be forcibly babysat by?" 

Ghost thought about that. Who was left in Hallownest? Elderbug was well, elderly, Bretta would probably try to marry him on sight, Sly was too greedy, Salubra was... Salubra... Cornifer and Iselda were busy, Cloth was also busy, and there was NO WAY he would leave him with Tiso or Zote. Which left...

Ghost tugged on Hornet's cloak again, making signs for rain and a city. 

Hornet thought about that for a second before saying, "Are you sure about that? You know he doesn't like company. He might just kill him."

Ghost seemed to noiselessly huff, before pointing to Quirrel before signing book and history.

"You're right! He wouldn't mind having such a source of knowledege on hand."

"So uh, where are we going?" Quirrel asked.

"The City of Tears."


End file.
